Belly Up.

With a fantastic sunny spell lasting already more than a week and a silly but optimistic simulated sandy beach on the riverfront, London is abuzz. Drinks al-fresco, a giant fox, in-promptu photo shoots and clouds of pollen, the parks in sinking mode and parkour in the concrete forest of the South Bank. Even an inflatable cow has landed belly up on the green. Tasty stuff.

I'm Afraid Not.

Lately I've been seeing this question written all over the place. Humming a tune and it fills in the lyrics, closing my eyes and it pops up in Neon lights. At first I thought it was a mirage but now I hold indisputable evidence (with innocent bystanders and their legs as witnesses).

So it is real. That's no big surprise of course but funnily enough it led to a series of new questions. Are we at least getting there? I suppose we are getting somewhere but is it there? Is it close? Where is "there" in the first place?

Silly huh? I thought so too.

Two Behind Bars.

Flying Kites.

They say that you should make the biggest decisions in one breath and spend all the time in the world on the small things. Trying to juggle the next ten years of your life (or possibly more) and stay truthful with yourself while at the same time staying sane is no small feat. Pass dreams and future hopes can take deceptive forms.
It's hard to accept that any decision will eventually work out, but it's nothing more than a first step. And there will be countless ones to follow. Each one will matter equally, only in a less dramatic fashion.

It might just be better to take time and pride with the simple stuff, those that will stay in memory longer and will only get sweeter in time. Like making a tiny kite out of the yellow pages and and flying it with your best friends on a deserted beach.